Finding New Voices in Romantic Fiction

#WritingChallenge: The first kiss

How is your writing going, authors? Have you thrown down the first draft for the Write Your Romance in 150 Days challenge and are you reworking, revising, rethinking, trimming and polishing? Let us know in the comments how you’re progressing!

Your challenge this week: In a short scene (a few paragraphs only, please) describe your hero and heroine’s first kiss. You can post a scene from your work in progress or write something new. You can choose the hero’s or the heroine’s point of view (pick one), and be as sweet or sexy as you like – just make sure the emotion and chemistry are on the page!

Here are our Top 3 Tips from Harlequin authors (for even more tips, go here):

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Chasity Miller looked herself over for the hundredth time. The silky white lilies in her hair accented her chocolate, wavy locks perfectly; the rose earrings and necklace enhanced her emerald eyes, and her long,white gown, beaded and adorned with lilies and roses, was the vision of a princess gown in a fairy tale. Her nervousness, however, anything but. Gulping in several breaths of air, she attempted to calm the frenzy of butterflies, which seemed to be performing Swan Lake.

Unsuccessful, and already running late, she stepped out onto the porch, smiling at the sight of Dad in a tux. “You look awesome, Daddy.”

The smile the lit Dad’s face when he turned around had her own smile broadening, his tears of joy pricked tears in her own eyes. “And look at you, Chasity! Why, you’re the spitting image of your Mom. Simply, breathtaking, Darlin’, breathtaking.”

Heat climbed up her neck and warmed her cheeks. “Thanks, Daddy.” Slipping her arm in his, she smiled up at him. Looking at him now, nobody would ever have suspected he was kidnapped and beaten because Mom’s ring was on her finger instead of in his possession. Nor would anyone have ever guessed that a few months ago, they’d both faced a terrifying danger that had nearly costed both their lives and the life of Peter.

A sweet smile touched her lips and the beautiful sunbeams kissed her skin, warming her as the thought of her waiting groom warmed her heart. Sweet and funny Peter had saved her and Dad’s life, and had stolen her heart all in less than a week. When the gazebo came into view, her eyes immediately landed on Peter, who returned her smile. The flock of butterflies were now creating a whirlwind and wreaking havoc on her nerves. She’d be giving him her first kiss today, her wedding day. A promise she’d made when she was a girl, to save herself, even her first kiss, for her wedding day. Though, after Mom died, she’d told herself numerous times before that she was never going to marry. But now, here she was, getting married and preparing herself to share her first kiss. Would she do it right? What if he hated the way she kissed?

Peter took her hand, leaning down to her ear, his breath tickling her cheek. “Relax, Darlin’. You’d be crazy not to marry me and I’d be a blind nut not to marry you. You’re gorgeous, Chasity, simply stunning, And I love you with all my heart.”

Closing her eyes, she thoroughly enjoyed the love of his words that overflowed her heart and throughout every fibre of her body. Lord, what have I done to deserve such a blessing as Peter’s love? She didn’t know, but she was eternally grateful God had brought them together.

Everyone was still laughing when Pastor Joshua turned to her next. “And do you, Chasity Miller, take Peter Sawyer to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I do.”

“Then I now pronounce you, man and wife. You may kiss your bride,” Joshua finished.

“Don’t mind if I do.”

Peter wrapped her in his arms, rubbed a gentle, caressing hand down her cheek and around her neck; his eyes, so full of love, stared down at her. Meeting his gaze for just a moment, she smiled sweetly before closing her eyes as he inclined his head. The first light brush of his lips vanquished her butterflies and left her anticipating more. One more brush of his lips, like an artist to his canvas, had her arms sliding around his neck, pulling him closer. When their lips met again, she met him halfway, allowing him to kiss her fully and she him. Love infused her entire being as he deepened the kiss, pouring out his love to her and she replied instantly by doing the same. When they finally parted, her heart was doing somersaults withing her chest. She couldn’t feel more blessed to be loved by Peter and to love him. Lord, thank You. Thank You so much!

Hi Ruby, you’ve given some nice context leading up to the kiss–I’m curious about what this couple has been through in the past week! This was a very sweet kiss scene and it’s clear love is at the centre of it. Nice!

He jumped up from the bed and knelt on the floor in front of the chair she was sitting in. He put his arms around her waist and buried his face in her breasts. She gasped and put her hands on his head with the intention of pulling him off her, but instead, the warmth that spread through her body made her grasp him closer and she kissed the top of his head.
He murmured her name with a string of muffled Italian endearments. She felt his heat, breathed in his musky smell with overtones of lemon from the verbena soap in the bathroom. His hair was silky and soft and she grabbed handfuls of it, undecided whether to push him away or get down on the floor with him.
He took the decision out of her hands when he pulled her roughly onto the rug he was kneeling on and covered her body with his. As she lay, staring up at the black beams against the stark white ceiling, her body came alive at his touch. Then he kissed her and she felt herself falling. Falling back to the first time he had kissed her, when she realised that she had never really been kissed before. No man had ever awakened such conflicting feelings of tenderness with an overwhelming desire to bring this strong, arrogant man to his knees and make him beg.
Stefano’s hand had crept under her blouse and was fondling her breasts through her bra. Even through the cotton material, his touch set her on fire. She wanted his hands on her bare skin and wriggled to free one of her hands so she could undo the buttons of her blouse and free herself for him. But he put her arms over her head gently and kissed her neck, his tongue tracing a path that awoke her erogenous zones and sent waves of sensation to her finger-tips.
‘We will take our time, no?’
Lucy marvelled at his self-control, knowing how aroused he was. She wanted to scream No! I want you now! but a voice in her head told her to stop him, that if she gave in now, she would never be able to leave. He would have won, taken possession of her again. He would own her and there would be no escape. She would have to stay in Tuscany, become like his mother, a calm, emotionless figurehead. The matriarch of the family who had no power, no say in what went on, no life of her own. Every good thing experienced second hand through the lives of her husband and children. She would dry up and become a lifeless husk.
But Stefano’s mouth was on her breasts and she groaned out loud. His tongue played with one of her nipples and she sighed deeply and closed her eyes in defeat. It was no use, his seductive powers were too good. He knew her too well. He had carefully unbuttoned her blouse as if she was his property, there for the taking.
Then, she heard a sound in the distance, quietly at first but growing louder and more insistent as it moved from the main road down the path to the farmhouse. A sound like an angry bee intent on breaking through a glass pane. Cristiano’s motorbike, la signora de fuoco – The Fiery Lady. And it worked on Lucy like magic. She remembered why she was there, and now was her chance to achieve that. Once she had done it, she would be free again.
With all her strength, she heaved herself upwards and, taking him by surprise, she pushed Stefano off her. He lay on his back staring up at her in shock.
‘Lucy – che diavolo!
‘Cristiano’s back, I need to see him.’
‘Now? Can’t it wait?’
‘No time like the present,’ she answered cheerily, ‘I’ll be back before dinner.’
Stefano’s face was dark and murderous. He continued to lie on his back on the cream rug, glaring at her in disbelief. ‘Maledico il mio fratello!’
He may curse his brother, but she could have kissed him at that moment.
After adjusting her clothing, she slipped out onto the patio then ran down the path that led out of the walled enclosure, passing Sofia’s herb garden, smelling sweetly in the Italian sun, then onwards to the groves of olive trees, to the vineyards and the farmhouse.

“Jack Bryant! Have you been investigated by the police?” Someone yelled far behind them.

Standing in line with him, Robin looked around his arm, back towards the little idiot being dragged away. “Jack?” She slipped her hand softly into his palm.

He looked down into her eyes. “Yes?”

With her free hand, she reached up and took his chin into her fingers. She drew him down to her lips and sent his heart tumbling down to his toes.
Jack closed his eyes when her mouth pressed warmly to him, her peppermint breath caressed him and her little nose nestled against his in the sweetest half-second of his life. He raised his eyelids with some effort when she parted, still gazing up at him like that.

“I’m sorry.” Robin smoothed her hand down his neck and chest and stopped it there, her breath still tickling his neck. “I wanted it clear to the world I’m with you because I want to be,” she said, just above a whisper.

This is from the romantic suspense I’m working on:
Lars walked around his desk and met her glare eyeball to eyeball. “My God, Officer Reynard, when are you going to learn you can’t just attack a perp and get the charges to stick?”

“When there are no more perps.”

Normally, her sassy and upright attitude impressed him. This time, he was angry. He wanted her to go by the book. He wanted her to be the best detective she could be. But how could he break her spirit and still find the woman he’d grown to care about?

“There will always be perps,” he said, keeping a grip on his temper. “But one of these days you aren’t going to win the fight. You will be injured or worse.”

“I can handle myself, sir.”

“Can you?”

“Yes.”

He circled her, ready to strangle that stubborn little neck. She was going to get herself killed. She had to learn. He grabbed her wrist from behind, pulled it hard between her breasts, and jerked her body up against his chest with her head locked in the elbow of his free arm. He bent close to her ear and whispered, “What if the perp grabs you like this, his knife blade against your throat?”

She brought her free arm up and grasped his ear in a death-grip pinch. She took advantage of the second he relaxed his hold on her to push his arms up and away, then turned to face him, her hands on his biceps and her knee raised for attack. “I just might win.”

“Not this time, Rey.” His mouth covered hers in a kiss that had been months in coming. All the times he’d wanted to kick her butt for not following orders, all the times he forced his libido under control in her presence—all culminated in this first kiss. And damn if she didn’t melt into him, making him groan in response.

We drive back and he pulls into his closed restaurant. “I have to count the drawers, do you mind?” , “ No, I don’t mind.” I didn’t mind, I wasn’t ready for this night to end at all. We went in and he turned on some lights and told me to pour us some wine while he wrapped things up. I was more than happy to do just that and felt a bit more relaxed in familiar territory. I had worked there with him for three years and never thought I would be feeling or doing this. I was waiting anxiously for him to come around the corner when I finally saw him walking towards me. My heart raced and I felt a chill of excitment that actually made my niipples hardened. He sat down at the bar and sipped his wine asking if I was ok? He did that a lot. “I’m good, and you.?” “Oh I’m good.” he replied. He turned the barstool away from the bar and told me to come here. I jump down and moved closer to him, placing my hands on his thighs I stood between his legs. Suddenly he pulled me into him, by grabbing the hair by the nape of my neck. He leaned in and kissed me hard, his tongue swirling around and dancing with mine, it was so hard to keep standing. My legs were weakening with every breath, my body was trembling with excitement and filled with desire. I felt a sudden wetness between my legs and I ached to have him inside me. I slid my hand up his thigh to see how hard his dick was and I was not disappointed. Still kissing me he brushed his hands across my nipples making me moan. Lifting me up by just his hands on my ass he turned and laid me down on the table next to the bar placing me near the end and slid my skirt up. My legs bent and off to each side he stood in between them, sliding my panties to the side he bent down and licked me. I felt a rush like never before. He was good, slow, steady and confident. His tongue gently explored my vagina and wickedly tickled my clitoris. I grab my breasts and pinched my nipples as he continued to tease me with his tongue and finger me. Oh, I want him so badly,. He abruptly stops as I breathlessly say “No, dont” As he is sliding down his zipper and dropping his pants he asks, “Are you ok”? , “ Yes, I’m good.” Softly he places the tip of his cock all around but just barley inside my opening. I can feel myself practically dripping and I am wanting it all so badly. I touch myself rubbing and playing as he circles. Gripping my hips he plunges deep inside me and the feeling is overwhelming. He steadily slides in and out gradually going further and speeding up the rhythm. I can feel my legs shaking with every magical thrust. He goes in deep and just stops there..holding it there as my walls tighten around him. “I am going to come” I pant , “ No, your not. ‘ He stops and removes himself and I crash, still quivering, so wet and wanting him back. Wanting to come. He sits me up and wraps my legs around him and carries me into the banguet room. He grabs a clean tablecloth off the table and lays it on the floor. “Kneel down.” I kneel down on all fours and before I know it he is behind me pounding inside me again. I lower my head and rest it on my arm while I reach back and rub my clit. Slamming himself faster and faster, deeper and deeper I feel my orgasm building. “Oh, you feel so good!” He shouts, “You’re gonna make come!”, My stomach tightens as the rhythm continues and my body heightens and shakes as I cry out, “ Oh my God, Im coming, Im coming….” the jolts sharpen then soften as I reach my climax, he reaches his too, “Oh Yes!” he howls, as he releases himself. coming all over my back and squirting into my hair. We both collapsed on the ground panting. I at this moment have just experience the most intoxicating moment of my life. “Well,? he says, “ Are you ok?” , “Yes, I am good.” I sigh.

Jackson looks at me dumbfounded, but then the sound of breaking glass followed by someone screaming seems to propel him into action. He grabs me by the shoulders, pushes me to the ground and covers my body with his.
We’re in the middle of an earthquake and I don’t even feel the slightest trace of fear.
Jackson’s body is pressed tightly against mine, we’re half under the piano and his face just hovers dangerously close to mine.
Completely mesmerized I look into his amber eyes. If this is how I’m going to die, it really isn’t so bad, I think as a large vase falls over the piano and crashes just inches from where we lie. Instinctively I put my hands on Jackson’s head to protect him.
Another thought flashes in my mind. I don ‘t want to die without kissing this man at least once.
My kissing experience is limited and my first kiss was the stuff of nightmares that still haunt me to this day, but none of that matters now.
Time seems to slow down. My breath mingles with his and then I just crash my lips to his and kiss him.
I kiss him senseless. The world outside might be falling apart for all I know, but in my world, for the first time, everything clicks into place. There is nothing but me and him, tucked away safely under the piano and as long as he is here with me, I could gladly take up permanent residency here. Who needs a big ass villa with a heated swimming pool when you can have this?
Jackson’s tongue sweeps into my mouth, hot and demanding, tasting of mint, that fruity cocktail he just drunk and something that’s uniquely and entirely Jackson. His hands grab my hair and as he angles his head to deepen the kiss, desire washes over me like a tidal wave.
I moan into his mouth, a guttural sound that I don’t even recognize as my own, and I shift my body so I can feel more of him. I want to feel everything, l –
“Mark!” The sound of my sister’s voice immediately dissolves the haze of lust I’m floating on and isn’t until then that I realize that the earth is no longer shaking.

I love this, seriously! but I would not be under a piano in an earthquake! Not safe at all. I grew up in SoCal and lived through many, some pretty bad ones too like the 1971 San Fernando. I lived several miles from the epicenter but I awoke that morning to my little black cat literally flying around the room and then my bed started bouncing off the floor. It was scary.

Thanks so much for your feedback, Chrissie. I’ve actually never been in an earthquake, but you probably figured that already 🙂 Because I heard of people hiding under desks during earthquakes, I thought I could get away with them hiding under a piano as well, considering they were actually at the piano when the earthquake struck. Thanks for pointing this out to me!

WIP Question: My 150 WIP has 40 something h/h.
It’s a second chance at love, for them. The pair get dumped into a murder investigation. I’m keeping the mystery part of the story cozy. The story doesn’t fit intrigue, (my fav). Would you still be interested in the premise?

Death and Cupcakes
From hooded eyes, Jack watched Dirk Ipkiss enter the café. He assessed the other man with distaste. Slicked back hair, two hundred dollar cashmere sweater over a dress shirt and suit pants. He probably had a manicure too.
Dirk hung around Jane far too much in Jack’s opinion. It didn’t matter they all used to hang around together as kids.
From across the room Jack could tell Dirk had an agenda concerning Jane and it wasn’t about trying to find the right price to buy the café.
Jack climbed to his feet and dusted cupcake crumbs off his jeans and green cotton golf shirt. He picked up his oversized, red coffee mug. It was time to let Jane know why he decided to move back to Musgrave Landing. His boots didn’t make much noise as he crossed the painted wooden floor. He loomed over Dirk.
“So, would you?” Dirk asked Jane, oblivious to the fact his nemesis stood behind him.
Jane’s deep brown eyes flickered over Dirk’s shoulder and up, to meet Jack’s gaze. He gave her a half smile. Relief flooded her expression.
“I’m sorry, no, Jack asked me first.” Jane said with such a firm nod that her chestnut braid bounced down her back.
What had he already asked Jane? Jack reviewed their conversation from before and found nothing.
Dirk turned, then jumped in surprise to find Jack standing directly behind him.
Amusement lit Jack’s face.
The other man narrowed his eyes at Jack. “How did you know about the Art Festival’s Dance?” It was an accusation said through clenched teeth.
“I told him,” Arlie popped his grey head around the storage room door. “I put up the poster in the window.” The older man disappeared again.
“It’s true,” Jack nodded and put his coffee mug on the counter. “Thanks for lunch, Jane, the soup was delicious as always.”
“Glad you liked it.” Jane gave him a quick smile and snagged his dirty cup for the dishwasher.
“So you’re out of luck, Dirk.” Jack pulled out his wallet and removed a ten to pay Jane.
“No worries,” Dirk shrugged and tried to act like Jane dating Jack didn’t bother him. “I’ll ask someone else. I’m going to get a large coffee to-go.” Dirk stalked over to the self-serve counter.
Jane handed Jack his change and he dumped it all into the tip cup. “Thanks. You heading back to work?”
“I am,” Jack glanced over his shoulder briefly at Dirk, then turned back to Jane. “Can I get a kiss good-bye?”
“I…” Jane’s soft pink lips parted in astonishment. “Yes, of course.” Jane stepped around the counter and aimed a quick kiss for his cheek.
But Jack grasped Jane’s shoulders as he turned his head and their lips met. It was everything Jack could have hoped for. Jane’s lips tasted like maple and he couldn’t get enough. He slipped his arms around her and she melted against him. Now he was home.

You have a really lovely way of writing, Yvonne, and I’m sure all the necessary context will come in elsewhere. But I’d love to know more about Jane and Jack’s relationship, what’s gone on with them so far and how they feel about each other!

This is a bit from my WIP. A demon hunter has been sent to watch over the Archangel Gabriels grand-daughter. She has powers but doesn’t know how to control them yet.

Raith’s heart missed a beat. Sera’s being watched.
“Are you sure it’s the same car. What sort of car is it?”
“A silver Bentley. There’s not many of those driving around here and the licence plate is the same each time I’ve seen it.”
“And did you see anyone inside?”
“Yeah. The first time there was an older guy in a suit sitting in the back. He had blonde hair, blue eyes. He kind of spoke to me in my head, he knew my name. The driver had brown curly hair.”
Raith knew exactly who it was. He looked away and ran his hand through his hair. Gabriel was right. She is in danger. More danger than she realizes. Gabriel’s words repeated in his head. They will not allow anyone who possesses such power to remain alive for long.
“The older guy works at the bottle store. He knows who I am and he knows my dad. There’s something weird about him, creepy.” Sera turned her body towards him. His gaze dropping to the rise and fall of her cleavage that strained against the low neckline of her dress. His body temperature increasing as he struggles with the urge to know how they feel.
He now understood why Gabriel told him he was the best person to protect her. Balthazar was her main threat, a threat he could eliminate. “It’ll be okay, Sera. Your grandfather has asked me to help you with your ability.”
“You know who it is, don’t you?”
“Yes. He won’t harm you, not while I’m around.” He placed his hand on her knee. It was impulsive and he wasn’t entirely sure why he did it. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow to start your training.”
“Training? What kind of training?”
“Basic skills to start I guess. I need to get an understanding of what you can do.” His thumb started to caress her leg. Her skin was smooth, unblemished.
“Sounds like fun.”
His breath quickened as she placed her hand on his thigh, a soft dreamy look on her face. The ember that he tried to extinguish started to smolder. He knew this kind of contact was forbidden. He closed his eyes to try and dull the senses. It only heightened them. The feel of her soft skin against his, her thumb brushing the denim of his trousers. He could feel a stirring in places that he hadn’t been entirely sure still worked since his ascension. Movement of the sofa indicated she was moving in closer, he opened his eyes in time to catch her leaning in closer, lifting her head as she did so. Her strawberry lips slightly parted, inviting him to take a bite.
Magnetism pulled him in towards her. Unable to hold back any longer, he placed his lips onto hers. The plump sweet taste sent shivers through his core. Small lightning bolts of pure pleasure filled his veins, reviving pieces of him that had been dead for a long time.
Her body lifted and she placed one leg over his lap to straddle him. Her hands caressing his jawline. Raith became lost in the hunger. It’s been three hundred years since he’d even been close to a woman, let alone kissing one.
Then, a brief flash, the image of a blonde woman in his mind, screaming at him, knife in hand.
He froze as realisation of what was happening hit him. Taking Sera’s shoulders in his hands, he pulled away.
“I do apologise,” his chest tightened as he moved out from underneath her, “this is forbidden.”
Sera sat on the sofa. A dazed look on her face. “But you feel it too,” Sera’s eyes pleading with him to say yes, “don’t you?”
He wanted to take her in his arms, To feel her melt into him as they fused their souls into one. He also saw the ramifications of his actions if he did. He knew she would get hurt. She would be in more danger if he allowed this to go any further. He would have to face the wrath of Gabriel, no doubt be sent to the fiery pits of hell, for that’s the only demotion he could face. He would be surrounded by the very beings he’d previously extinguished. The punishment would be extreme. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let this happen.”
He could see the twisted look on Sera’s face, etched in his brain as he opened the door. He’d allowed this to go too far, exactly what he was trying to avoid this morning. “I’ll pick you up at nine am.” Closing the door behind him, he took a deep pained breath and closed his eyes. I can’t let her get hurt. I have to resist this.

Ooooh! This is so incredibly intense, I’m dying to know what happens next. The only thing that dilutes it is the exact language of the kiss itself ‘he placed his lips onto hers’ doesn’t quite match the powerful nature of everything else here. Is there another way of saying it that keeps that keeps that drama up?

Grace slowly opened the first button, then the next, deliberately not opening his shirt fully, treating him like a delicious gift. A present that she’d been anticipating all year and today was Christmas and her birthday all rolled into one and she was going to enjoy the unwrapping as much as the contents.
Finally, the last button was undone and Grace glanced up, suddenly shy and saw him smile down at her, a sweet, sensuous smile that sent excitement whooshing through her blood.
“Don’t you dare stop now,” Rufus whispered and she smiled before she looked down at his open shirt and, taking both sides of it boldly tugged it out of the front of his jeans whilst he helped pull it out at the back and then she slowly peeled it away from his body and drank in his beautiful muscular form, running both hands over his chest, over his small flat nipples, hearing the sharp intake of breath as her fingers lightly touched his sensitised flesh.
She stepped forward and feathered kisses over his torso. Her tongue licking one tiny peak, hearing his excited hiss and that one small sound spurred her on with the delicious growing knowledge that he found her sexy. She had the power to arouse this strong sexy man.
It was intoxicating.
Grace moved her mouth up and placed a kiss against the base of his throat breathing him in, smelling faint traces of spice and something else that was indefinably Rufus and felt his arms lock around her and squeeze her gently.
“My shirt has never been opened in such an erotic way,” he mouthed against her ear, before running his lips down her neck and a thousand goose bumps flooded her tingling skin as she gasped, tilting her head to one side.
His lips wandered over her chin, excitement building, her breathing made up of little gasps as his hands trailed a delicious path of tingling sensations and his lips delivered tiny kisses until they found what they were looking for and, finally, his mouth touched hers.
Softly, gently at first, tasting her, then his kiss deepened and fire swept through her body as she wrapped her arms around his neck to pull his head down, wanting it all, opening her mouth to his, tasting a heady combination of mint, coffee and Rufus.
She’d dreamed of this moment for so long, fantasised about it, but the reality was so much better.

I was watching TV, when Rex came in kind of drunk. He sat down beside me, looked me straight in the eyes, and then he kissed me. The kiss at first was gentle, and then he was biting my lower lip and I opened my mouth for him. His tongue went into my mouth teasing my tongue, sucking it, and he was getting very passionate. When the kiss was over, he said; “You kiss good.” I looked at him and told him thanks. He then got up and went to his bedroom.

This was Anna Estrella, he told himself. She was not just a plaything he used. She as special but he couldn’t help himself. Mateo lowered his lips to hers. They were soft, not hard or cold at all. She was no doll. She was Anna Estrella, his once childhood friend.
“Why?”
Mateo looked her in the eyes. “I couldn’t help myself. I just had to and now I have to again…”
Their lips met, a once innocent kiss became torrid and hungry. He nibbled at her cheeks then her necks.
“Oh, Dios ko!” Anna Estrella started to recite a prayer when his thighs brushed her most intimate part. This carnal act, the Frayles would forbid! Oh! But if they knew of her past, they would surely excommunicate her right there and then.
Mateo closed his eyes. He too was reciting some unknown prayer. These feeling he had were strong. H tried to reason that she was innocent but his fingers wouldn’t listen. Slowly, he unlaced her corset strings. “Allow me this one night, querida.”
“Yes…” She was just as breathless as him.
Their years apart were torture but he promised to make it up to her.

this is such a powerful moment, the tension between them is conveyed really well. I’m guessing this is historical – so more of a build-up, with some scene setting to give you context, would add lovely flavour to this scene.

Armani braced himself against the doorjam as he watched Krystyn pull the pins from her scarlet red hair. He caught his breath as her unpileing hair sent cascading curls down her back. Only then did she realize someone was watching her. She turned to see his icy blue eyes holding her every move to his memory. Armani finally pushed himself away from the door, slowly walking towards her like a jungle cat stalking it’s prey. She began to back away from him only to find the wall was closer than she thought.
“What are doing? What do you want?” she breathed hoarsly. Her emerald eyes shining up at him as he pinned her soft body against his. She watched as he placed his hands on the wall at her sides, making an escape unheard of. She could smell the sandalwood in his cologne. Man, he smelt great. She was drowning in his sent.
“You know what I want” he whispered to her as he slowly closed the gap between them. He was so close to her he could smell the rose sent in her hair. He pressed his body even closer to hers. Her taught breast began rising faster as her breathing began to become more laboured.
“I want to feel you give into me”. He said in her ear. He slowly began to trial butterfly kisses down her neck and across her jaw.
Krystyn swallowed nervously as her knees began to buckle. She never wanted a man the she craved for this one. Her body began to tremble as his hands moved over her. She was certain he could feel her loosing her regard and her strength as he wrapped his arms around her. He lifted her, and carried her to the bed. He laid her on the white rabbit fur throw and left small wet kisses on the top of the creamy velvet soft breast. He moved off of her to peel off his dinner jacket.
Krystyn felt her core tighten and she let out a small whimper. Armani smiled to himself. His gaze held her while he removed the shirt he had on as well. Skilfully Armani lowered himself to her again. This time his hands explored her. He moved them down her legs and left heated trails up to where her womanhood awaited his touch. He wanted to taste her and feel her hi get for him, the way he did for her. Finally, his lips captured hers. Fire sparked to life as he felt her part her lips for him. As his fingers worked the silky wetness between her legs, his mouth took control of hers. Armani kissed her as if he were searching for water to conquer the thirst He felt for her.He could feel Krystyn grasping his shoulders in need, as he showed her ecstasy over and over again.
She clawed his bare shoulders as her body twitched with pure need. She broke the kiss only to catch her breath. She panted and moved her body as if asking for more. His member throbbing and begging for release, Armani stood and smiled.
“Do you want me Krystyn? Do you want to feel what you do to me? If you do, tell me. Tell me what you want. Tell me what you need.”
“You.” she panted. “All I want is you. Show me how to love. Show me what this ache inside of us is really like.” She whispered with a parched husky voice.
He undid the button on his trousers and pushed them down past his knees all while maintaining the eye contact with her. She was his salvation. She was his only reason for living, and tonight he was going to prove to her that he was born to love only her. Once his clothing was off, he slowly pulled Krystyn up to sit on the edge of the bed. He removed the silk gown she wore to reveal her exquisite godess like body. Bashfully, she bit her lower lip and looked away from him.
“Don’t do that. Don’t be ashamed. You’re absolutely gorgeous, baby. You’re perfection in the skin. You are perfect in everyway.” And with that he kissed her again, laying her back on the bed. He touched her again burning her body with explicit heat. He positioned himself between her toned ivory legs and slowly baried himself inside her. He loved her over and over again. He loved her all through the night. Yes. Tonight she was his. She was all his.

Wow, many of you have chosen to go well beyond the requested “first kiss” for this challenge – ha! Julie, a couple of tips for you on this very sexy scene: One would be to avoid well-used phrases such as “his lips captured hers”, which doesn’t actually convey much information on how the hero is feeling. The other would be to watch for minor typos and spelling mistakes that could pull your reader (including an acquiring editor) out of the scene. Thanks for writing!

Progress on 150-Day WIP: I tried something new and started my ms in the middle and wrote out to the end, then the beginning. The first draft is almost finished–I still have the beginning to write. It’s the hardest part for me. The first kiss scene is from this ms, Secrets and Lies, aimed for Harlequin Intrigue.

Looking up into his face was a big mistake. The desire reflected in Murdock’s eyes made her heart speed up and thunder in her ears. He leaned down, the scent of pine soap wafting to her. His big hands grasped a handful of cutoffs at each side of her, and he pulled her to him. His mouth was soft and warm on hers. She reached up and clutched two handfuls of his shirt.

His kiss was tender as though he stayed mindful of her split lip. He tasted of mint and chocolate. She pulled on his shirt, drawing him closer, wanting more of him. One of his legs slipped between hers, enveloping her with his warmth. She trembled and liquid heat settled deep in her pelvis. His hands tightened on the cutoffs, pulling her bottom up his thigh. She wrapped her leg around his. Next thing she knew, she sat on the counter, his hands on her back, in her hair, down her arms, his callused palms creating shivers in their wake. She released all the fear, heartache, worry and exhaustion, giving in to his strength.

Abruptly, he stopped. Turning his head away, he placed a hand on each side of her, bracing his weight against the counter. His breath came in gasps. Hers was pretty uneven too, and her pulse galloped away. She shouldn’t have let it continue, knowing she had harbored secrets, told him lies. But for the first time in years someone had treated her like a desirable woman and she wanted to hold on to the illusion.

“I shouldn’t have done that.” His face was grim as though it took great effort to speak, his voice hoarse with emotion. Or sexual arousal, she wasn’t sure which. He took a deep breath, expelled it through pursed lips. “I’m sorry.”

She wasn’t, but the truth of who he was, who she was couldn’t escape her. The law and the lawbreaker. Or soon-to-be lawbreaker, once she found the money and didn’t turn it over to him. “Look, Murdock–”

“Luke. Don’t you think we’ve graduated to first names? I’m not calling someone I’ve kissed Ms. Fox. It would be too weird.”

Maurine, good job on keeping a consistent point of view and conveying your heroine’s thoughts and feelings. In a couple of sentences – “She shouldn’t have let it continue, knowing she had harbored secrets, told him lies. But for the first time in years someone had treated her like a desirable woman and she wanted to hold on to the illusion.” – you’ve given us not only some emotion, but some plot hints as well, making your scene one that reveals character and moves your story forward. Well done!

“Jordan?” Her breath warmed his lips as his gut clenched with uncontested need.
“Forget the contract.” He brought flush to his body, his hard angles connecting with perfectly with her soft curves. “Don’t lie, Brie. You’re not angry because I terminated our deal.”
“How dare you?” She trembled in his embrace, the silk of her fingertips caressed the base of his neck, her mesmerizing hazel eyes took on that honey hue he loved every time he held her like this. “Let me go.”
“Is that what you really want” After two long years, he finally had the one woman who made his blood scorch like lava through his system, right where he wanted her. In his arms. He was acting purely on instinct, abandoning all rational thought to risk a chance at changing her mind. About him. About what they had.
She was angry with him and her reasons crushed conscience with all the guilt and regret he carried like dead weight. But he wouldn’t get another chance if he let her walk out of office. Out of his life. For good.
Her gaze softened. “All I want is–”
“I know.” He closed inch-gap that separated them and brushed his lips against hers. Her gasp echoed in his ears, but he didn’t take her mouth with the desperation his body demanded. No, he took his time. Placing soft, gentle kisses on her lips, letting his hands caress her face as if he had eternity to reconnect with her. “Tell me stop, Brie, and I will.” He pulled back for heartbeat, waiting for her to push him away. She licked her lips, the pulse at the base of delicate throat throbbed against her skin. The gentle hands cradling his neck pulled him down and without a second thought he claimed her mouth again, this time he took advantage of her parted lips.
And she kissed him back, their breaths, their gasps, their moans spurred him on like a thoroughbred thundering to the finish line. She pressed her delectable body against his as if he were a raft in the middle of the ocean. Oh yes, he’d been lost without her.
He pulled back when her fingers brushed against the skin at his chest. She’d undone the buttons of his shirt. “Not like this,” he whispered against her mouth wanting nothing more than to explore her body until she moaned his name.
Their gazes locked and she pushed him back, there it was. The hurt and anger reflected in her bright, hazel eyes. “This is all part of your plan to destroy me.”
“Brie–”
“No, no. We can’t. I can’t.” She ran a hand through the mused dark tresses he’d loosened from its intricate confine. “It’s business, Jordan. That’s all there’s between us.” Without another word, Brie left his office the same way she’d entered, without a backward glance.
He stabbed trembling fingers through his hair. He’d done exactly the opposite of what he wanted to do with Brie. He pushed her away. All because he believed she might still be willing to give his sorry hide a second chance.

Isabella, you’ve done a good job on the hero’s pov. What I really like is the emotion at the end of the scene, which gives the reader the sense that things have changed as a result of the couple’s interaction. Nice!

“Your fiance’s loss is my gain” Nik murmured in his deep tempting voice.
Feeling an unknown yearning making it’s way through her body she knew she should push herself away. Putting her hands on his powerful chest to do that she found her fingers coming to life, feeling the contour of the hard chest beneath the clothing. Looking up into his eyes she saw a hunger in them that matched hers.
“This is impossible, we don’t know each other,” she barely got out.
Nik reached towards her with his hand, gently touching her neck and sliding his fingers through her hair, releasing more of the scent of lilac and some unknown seductive fragrance.
Nik lowered his head, not yet touching her lips to his. “I can’t stop” he muttered.
“Don’t” she urged him.
The faint touch of their joined lips was like a caress that quickly escalated. She felt him seeking entrance and parted her lips to allow it. Addie had kissed a few guys but had never felt this overwhelming burn inside. The feel of him inside her mouth made her feel that she wanted more of him in her, she didn’t want to stop.

“I can’t chase you around the room. But before I die, I think I deserve a kiss.”
Grace looked up from whatever it was she was knitting.
Aidan’s eyes trailed ruefully down his inert body “Heaven knows, I can’t enjoy anything else.”
She didn’t respond. Her hands were motionless on the needles. Knit, purl, twirl, whatever it was. “How prudish can you be?” He smiled faintly as her eyebrows lowered. “Well, don’t answer that. But, you are my wife, after all.”
For a moment, he didn’t think she’d do it. She remained in her chair, blue yarn dangling off her lap, and bit her bottom lip. A lip Aidan was dying – for him, not an exaggeration – to taste.
After a few thoughtful blinks, she rose, slid the knitting from her lap onto the chair, and warily crossed the few feet to where he lie propped up in bed. Hesitantly, she leaned in. His nostrils flared as her scent – flowery, feminine, – wafted to him. Fragrances were different, depending on the wearer. This suited her. Clean, innocent, with just a hint of something else that you’d miss if you were in a hurry.
It moved him. Saliva generated under his tongue. Like he wanted to take a bite out of something. Which was the truth, and wouldn’t she be surprised about that?
Their eyes met. She must have seen something in his expression, because for a moment, she halted, drawing in a sharp breath, before placing a tentative hand beside his sheet-clad hip. The monitor beside the bed chirped at the abrupt change to Aidan’s heart rate, but neither of them looked away to acknowledge the machine.
Oh, don’t stop now, Sweetheart. When she finally moved again, every centimeter vibrated before diminishing between them.
Starlets and models had crawled naked over Aidan before. The faint recollection of their reputed perfect bodies was dull gray compared to the vivid image of his clothed, voluptuous wife leaning gingerly over his bed. Breaking eye contact, Aidan lowered his to watch the flannel shirt Grace wore shift away from its envied position draped over her luscious form, to rest against his bare shoulder. He counted the seconds until that glorious bosom – oh please let him see its bare magnificence before he died – was pressed against him, Aidan’s eyes drifted closed. If he couldn’t feel it, he could remember the warm, soft, singularly spectacular weight of a woman’s breast against his chest. Then magnify that nothing-like-it-in-the-world sensation a hundred times. Because this was Grace.
At the first hesitant touch against his mouth, he tasted the wild cherry lip balm he’d watched her put on a short while ago. He was always watching her – not that there was anything else for him to do – and during every moment he did, he’d become more…intrigued. Who’d have thought that of a pithy billionaire?
Her aim was off. Her full, recently abused lower lip met the slightly parted crease of his. Aidan sucked it into his mouth and nibbled gently on the satin surface. At a faint ‘oh’ exhalation from her before their lips perfectly aligned, the scent of the Werther caramels she favored was another taste to absorb. The candy’s signature sweetness was only exceeded by the naïve pressure of Grace’s mouth on his.
Aidan slipped his tongue between her softly parted lips and claimed her. For a moment, a deep regret, like a strike on a massive gong, echoed through him that he would never know her otherwise. So he made the most of the kiss.
Grace pulled back – eyes wide with wonder? Fear? She looked at him for the first time not as a physician, but as a wife and, if only fate allowed, a lover.
It must be wonder. Aidan was the one who felt the fear. Fear that he was starting to care. Fear that now he had something to lose.
And for the first time, he cursed the fact that he was dying.

There are a lot of intriguing plot hints here, and good use of the five senses. You could make your scene even more effective by eliminating well-worn images that diminish the sense of immediacy. Examples: Aidan’s lips claiming hers, Grace biting her lip, his nostrils flaring, or Aidan envying Grace’s flannel shirt. Thanks for writing, Jocelyn!

Thanks much for the specific feedback, Deirdre. More things for my ‘Do Not’ list that I am collecting by having done. I’m going to need a bigger bulletin board. Thanks again for the SYTYCW editors’ time and insight. Very valuable.

Jason was waiting for an answer. Gemma opened her mouth to speak, closed it again without saying anything. He wasn’t touching her but she could feel the heat of his body as clearly as if she was pressed him, Excitement battled with horror at herself for even thinking about him like this. She was off the market. It might not be official yet, but she was here to be with Dave. She hadn’t come halfway around the world just to throw it all away on a spur of the moment make out session with his best friend. Even if his best friend was the sweetest, best looking man she’d ever seen. Even if just the thought of him made her heart pound and her knees weak.

“Gemma?” Jason’s eyes sought hers. She tried to meet his gaze, but couldn’t hold it, turning her head away as the colour rose in her cheeks. She studied the door handle of the car intently. It hadn’t been her imagination. He had felt it too. But it was impossible. He was impossible.

He watched her a moment longer, then she heard him shifting in his seat.
“Forget it, I shouldn’t have said anything.” He let out a long sigh, and started tapping the steering wheel with both hands. “I know you’re thinking I’m the worst person in the world for trying to snake in on Dave’s claim. I just -” he broke off, shaking his head.

“Jason,” Gemma put out a hand and touched his arm. The rhythm he was tapping out paused but didn’t stop.

She felt as if her heart was about to jump up and choke her. She was on her way to become engaged to a man she’d never met, to this man’s best friend. She could not kiss him. It was impossible.

Or maybe it was impossible not to.

“Jason,” she said again, this time reaching up to turn his face towards hers. His two day stubble was rough under her fingertips. “I -” she stopped. What did she even want to say? His lips were so close, just a breath away. “I – “

Dear Beth, Very strong point of view here and I like how you give us her backstory, along with her “impossible” situation. Who doesn’t love a romance where friends become more-than-friends? Nicely done!

Last night she told herself she would not kiss Lars and she had meant it. The relationship was too new, except today was Friday, when rules slipped away. Walking up the street to meet him, there was sun and rain, the drops blurred the lines in the pavement that told her the answer, yes, no, maybe, yes, no, maybe, maybe, maybe, yeah, maybe she would. If she didn’t kiss him, how could she lean in to look at the flecks of gold in his eyes that distracted her?
“It’s just a kiss,” her friend had said, but she knew it wasn’t.
Maybe he wouldn’t kiss her at all.
He was waiting for her on the stone steps outside the public library. Women glanced at him as they walked by, but his gaze stayed casual. Nothing in his manner helped her decide until she was within greeting distance. His voice, she realized, was deep as he murmured, “Annabelle”. She felt deaf, like the noise of the city had overwhelmed her, she could hear only some of his words, “for you,” he told her. His hand brought her into the shelter of his arms and he bent to kiss her. His touch was light and she returned it, letting the interplay of differences happen until there was nothing left. Breaking apart, he grinned at her. In his other hand was a paper cone of dahlias, the blooms vibrant with autumn gold, “for you,” he repeated, “I just had to kiss you first.”

Sorry I’m late getting this in. Worked doubles this past weekend. So here goes nothing:

The kissing booth is opened and ready for business. I’m not ready for her to be opened for any business except for mine.
“She has ” cooties”, I said to hopefully the last customer.
“Cooties? He said laughing. There’s no such thing.
” Sure it is. I lied. Its called STD nowadays. The older man hurried away. Kristen looks at me angrier than a hornet with no honey.
“Cooties? Cooties? Of all the stupid –
I had to shut her up. I wanted to be the first one she kissed and I did it. I had to do some scheming but I got my way. Her lips so thick and warm against mine. Feels like I’m floating on cloud twenty right now. That’s a pretty high cloud and I’m never coming back down from it.

This is from a current WIP
Damn the consequences. He had to taste that lush mouth. He brushed his lips over hers, dipping his tongue a fraction to taste. She responded by pressing herself closer, parting her lips to let him in. She tasted sweet. Cannoli and cream against the bitter bite of his black coffee. He could do this forever. Except he couldn’t. Shouldn’t. They didn’t even have the excuse of being drunk.

“Can I help you?” she asked him.
Yes, she could. She could talk to him about this thing they had to deal with, instead of acting like he was a stranger she’d never seen before and didn’t much like the look of. She hadn’t reached out to him, and as far as he could tell, had done nothing about resolving this peculiar situation they found themselves in.. It needed to be settled. But he bit back the anger, and ordered a beer. When she brought it over, and had therefore to come closer, he said, “We need to talk.”
She tensed away from him, as if he might reach over and force her to listen to him.
The drunk guy leaned over. “Nah, I was here first. Lovely Talia here is supposed to give me her number, not you.” He leered at her. “We can do more than talk, babe.”
Talia flashed the drunk a smile. “You know I can’t do that, Carl. The other girls would be jealous. I think you might want to head on home as it is.”
Royd found himself grinding his teeth. The guy was fifty years old, with a paunch. He was wearing ill fitting clothing and barely looked able to climb the stairs to the upper level. There was no way Talia was interested in him, and he had no business bothering her. This was one of the many reasons why she shouldn’t be working here.
He glanced at her. She had Carl’s empty glass in her hand and was ready to escape from this end of the bar, and he wouldn’t put it past her to avoid him for the rest of the evening. He was tired and frustrated. They needed to get this whole thing done. He needed to know about the money so he could make sure when he signed off this time that she was going to get it. She needed to not be this vastly different woman who was making him feel like more of a heel than ever.
“Talia!” he said warningly, wanting to let her know he was serious.
Carl turned. “I tol’ you I was here first. I got dibs.”
“Carl,” Royd said frigidly. “You don’t get to call dibs on women, and she’s not interested. Go sleep it off somewhere.”
Carl struggled to get to his feet. “It’s none of your business, hot shot. Talia and I understand each other-”
Royd lost his temper on occasion. It didn’t happen often any more, but he was tired, he’d been through a few days of frustration, and his self control was wearing thin. He stood to his feet, vaguely aware that Talia was staring at the two of them. She wasn’t about to leave now.
“It is my business. Buzz off.” He’d have liked to say more, but was still hanging on to his anger by a narrow thread.
Carl stood up. Royd stood up with him. He had a good head over Carl. Carl didn’t show any self-awareness of the trouble he could find himself in very shortly. “What’s it to do with you, huh? She’s a free agent, and if she-”
Royd hadn’t realized that he and Carl were getting loud, and the background noise in the bar was getting a little quieter. Talia was leaning on the bar now, ready to intercede.
“What is has to do with me, Carl, is that she’s my wife, okay?” he spoke through gritted teeth.
Carl stood with his mouth agape, one hand fisted. Talia also was standing, mouth open.
“Royd, what the hell are you-” she started.
Royd had had enough. Talia apparently didn’t understand that they really needed to get this settled. She couldn’t keep ignoring him. And he wanted Carl to back off.
He looked at her, her eyes flashing daggers, and something came over him. He reached his hand to her neck, the way he used to do, and pulled her to him and kissed her, hard.
She didn’t react for a moment. He expected her to fight him. He deserved it, he knew. There was a moment when he could have sworn she softened, but then the bar broke out in applause and they pulled apart, both startled.

Meet the Editors

Charlotte Ellis

0Charlotte Ellis is the Editorial Assistant for the Harlequin Romance and Medical Romance series, joining the team in September 2016. Despite a BA in Sociology from Durham University and a year as a sports...